Mass release In honour to the support {1/10}
General Kurtly's eyes darted left and right as his footsteps echoed against the cold stone walls of the passageway. A biting chill filled the air, and every breath he took felt like inhaling shards of ice. His throat tightened as the lump lodged there swelled with every agonizing step, his breath growing more ragged by the second.
He was no stranger to fear, but the overwhelming dread that engulfed him now was unlike anything he had ever experienced.
His once imposing figure now felt small, weak. Stripped of his powers and strength by the concoction Hendricks had forced upon him, he had been left to starve for days. Blindfolded for most of his captivity, he had no idea where he was being led, but as the blindfold had been ripped from his eyes, the truth struck him like a hammer to the chest.
The stench of blood, thick and metallic, filled his nostrils, almost choking him. His gut twisted violently as his mind screamed the truth he wished weren't real: this was a slaughterhouse.
Kurtly swallowed hard, the taste of bile rising in his throat as panic surged through him. "H-Hendricks... I beg of you," he stammered, his voice cracking, betraying the fear clawing at his insides. "I can still be of use... I can help with whatever mission you're planning."
But even as he spoke, Kurtly knew it was futile. The air hung heavy with finality, and Hendricks' silence cut deeper than any blade.
Hendricks walked ahead, his boots making a rhythmic click against the floor, a stark contrast to the frantic, erratic shuffle of Kurtly's own steps. His back straight, posture calm, Hendricks didn't bother turning around. "Funny," Hendricks finally muttered, his voice icy, "when you tortured people, it was amusing to you. But now that the tables are turned... it's suddenly terrifying."
Kurtly's heart dropped. The cold realization of his fate hit him like a freight train. His mouth opened, but no words came out. His body trembled uncontrollably, drenched in the stench of his own fear.
Hendricks came to a stop in front of a massive metallic door, its surface covered with dried blood and grime, the pungent smell of decay wafting from it. He knocked three times, his knuckles tapping against the door in a slow, deliberate rhythm. For a moment, everything seemed to stand still, the silence pressing down on Kurtly until he felt like he might suffocate under its weight.
The door swung open with a loud creak, and Kurtly's heart nearly stopped as his eyes fell upon the towering figure that stood before them. A monstrous Fatek, with two grotesque heads sitting atop its shoulders, glared down at him. Its brutish face was a tapestry of scars, its muscles bulging beneath thick, leathery skin.
The creature exuded raw, primal power, and the bloodlust in its eyes sent shivers down Kurtly's spine.
"Is this the powerful hunter you promised me?" the Fatek's voice was a deep, guttural growl that reverberated through the walls.
Hendricks flashed a wicked grin, "Middle-aged, fat-brained, and full of vitamins. He hasn't had a drop of ale for weeks, and best of all, I'd say he's loaded with protein." Hendricks winked, his attempt at humor falling flat in the oppressive atmosphere.
Kurtly's body stiffened in terror. His skin had gone pale, and sweat poured down his face. His knees buckled as the Fatek's hand, as large as a boulder, reached out and grabbed him by the torso, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. The crushing force of its grip sent a series of sharp, agonizing cracks through Kurtly's body as his bones splintered.
Hendricks' sense of foreboding deepened, an instinctual fear clawing at his mind as he studied Sekhmet's reaction. "So... you are a god candidate?" Hendricks' voice trembled slightly, betraying the unease he felt in the presence of such overwhelming power.
Sekhmet's eyes darkened, his previously calm demeanor shifting into something far more dangerous. His normally pale face drained further, his expression freezing like a statue. It was as if the mere utterance of those words had awakened something ancient and terrifying within him. This was no ordinary reaction—it was the response of someone who had seen more than a mortal mind could fathom.
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How did Hendricks even know that title? A human from this realm should have no knowledge of such things.
"I see," Hendricks said, trying to mask his fear with a feigned confidence. When Sekhmet didn't respond, he nervously continued, "Might you know the candidate that possesses the Infinite Gods System?"
The moment the question left Hendricks' lips, he regretted it. The air around them thickened, becoming suffocating. The oppressive weight of Sekhmet's killing intent filled the room, crushing everything under its force. The very walls seemed to vibrate, trembling under the intensity of Sekhmet's aura. Hendricks gasped, his body instinctively recoiling as if he'd just stepped into the lair of a beast.
'I managed to piss him off so quickly,' Hendricks thought, panic surging through his veins.
Sekhmet's voice was a low, menacing growl. "Are you after the reward as well? The System that devours all? If so, then you are my enemy."
Every word dripped with a promise of death, sending shivers down Hendricks' spine. Anyone who dared to answer 'yes' would be signing their own death warrant, facing off against a being with powers beyond comprehension. Hendricks gulped, desperately trying to maintain composure. "N-not at all. I just want to kill the user of the system, that's all.
I don't care for the system itself." He forced a smile, the terror he felt painfully obvious. "I only wanted to know the user's name."
Sekhmet, watching Hendricks' feeble attempt at reassurance, remained silent, his eyes piercing straight through him. The killing intent simmered, but Hendricks could feel the unspoken threat hanging in the air. Sekhmet's gaze lingered, evaluating him, calculating whether to crush him where he stood.
After a moment, as if deeming Hendricks unworthy of his wrath, Sekhmet released a fraction of the suffocating aura.
Hendricks gasped for breath, the release of pressure so sudden it was dizzying. His knees almost buckled beneath him as the thick atmosphere began to clear. Even Hendricks hadn't realized how much the oppressive energy had affected him until it dissipated.
"The user of this system is the one called Axel," Sekhmet finally said, his voice cold and indifferent, as though merely mentioning Axel was beneath him. "Where can I find him?"
Hendricks nodded, trying to regain his composure, but his thoughts raced. 'Axel... so he's the one.' A twisted grin slowly spread across Hendricks' face. "So he is Axel, in that case, I don't need you anymore."
Bowing slightly, Hendricks' eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction. "You just gave me the final piece I've been looking for. The identity of the system user... this is truly fate."